A Patch of Dust Called Home
by scribe-lee
Summary: Mr. William Kirkland came West looking to find a new place for his family. What he found was a pair of mischievous twins, distinctly ill-tempered neighbors, and a world of trouble. Funny though, how that dusty little town called Perkins was beginning to seem more and more like home.


Characters aren't mine, just borrowing them for a bit.

-1-

"Mr. Kirkland!"

 _Tap tap tap._

"Mr. Kirkland! We're here, sir."

Mr. William Kirkland started awake at the sudden noise coming from outside the coach. With a yawn, he glanced outside. Sure enough, the rather monotonous landscape was now being broken up by the small town of Perkins. Mr. Kirkland leaned back against the threadbare seat with a smile. He was finally back, it had been nearly a year since he left the small town of Perkins to tell his wife and children that he had found their new home. Now all he had to do was finish preparing the house for the arrival of his family. He grabbed his hat and jacket as the coach rattled to a halt, the old driver calling out commands to his team. Before he could reach for the door handle, someone opened it from the outside.

"Welcome to Perkins, Mr. Kirkland!"

William shook his head and nimbly hopped out, grinning at the shotgun rider.

"It is good to be back, Mr. Jones."

"Aww, come on now, Mr. Kirkland, I told you that all that formal 'Mr.' nonsense doesn't really suit me much. Just call me Alfred."

"Alfred Jones, I dare say anyone with aim like yours deserves to be spoken to with respect."

"Just doing my job, Mr. Kirkland. Shall I help you with your bags? You mentioned you'd be staying at the hotel tonight."

"That would be most welcome, Mr. Jones. I cannot tell you how much I am looking forward to a proper bed tonight."

"You think the bed sounds good, you just wait until you get a taste of my brother's cooking. You may not want to move into that big ol' house of yours after that."

Mr. Kirkland laughed as the young blond untied his luggage from the top of the coach and went up to talk to the driver.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Miller. I hope that you do not run into any trouble on the return trip."

Mr. Miller wiped his dusty hands on his pants and took the British man's outstretched hand.

"No thanks needed, none at all. Glad to be of service to you. I don't imagine there being any trouble, lessen' I get myself lost on the way home from the saloon. Tom Cunningham's relievin' me for the trip down to Ridder Bend and back on up to Whitting, but I'll pass along the well wishes."

Miller clapped Mr. Kirkland on the back.

"Good luck on settlin' down here, Mr. Kirkland."

"Thank you. Farewell, Mr. Miller."

The old driver smiled and wandered back to his team.

"Ol' Jim ain't used to that sort of formality either, Mr. Kirkland. All due respect, we're gonna have to get you loosened up a bit, else you ain't never gonna loose that posh accent of yours."

Mr. Kirkland turned to see the blond smirking, blue eyes shining with humor.

"I'll have you know, Mr. Jones, that there is nothing wrong with how I speak."

Alfred looked at the man's deadpanned faced, desperately holding back the urge to laugh. The boy didn't last long, tossing his head back in laughter, and soon, Mr. Kirkland was laughing as well. Mr. Kirkland looked to pick up his luggage, but soon realized that it was all somehow tucked under Alfred's arms.

"I can get a couple of those, you know. They are my things."

"Nah, I've got it, sir. Wouldn't mind if you got the door though."

Alfred smiled as the British man moved toward the door of the small hotel, stepping to the side as Alfred stepped in.

"Mattie!" Alfred called as a second blond head made it's way across the dining room, "I'm back. Got somebody itchin' for a meal and a bed too."

"Al! And this must be Mr. Kirkland. Pleasure to meet you," Matthew said offering his hand.

"You as well."

Mr. Kirkland looked the boy over. He and Mr. Jones were almost mirror images of each other, but where Alfred's hair was short and golden blond with a stubborn cowlick, Matthew's was a paler blond that hung almost shoulder length with a curl independently falling in his face. The eyes were a tad different as well, Matthew's bluish-lavender eyes stood at a slight contrast to Alfred's brilliant blue. Matthew also seemed to be quite a bit more soft spoken than his boisterous brother.

"You didn't run into any trouble, did you?" Matthew asked, "Everybody got to and from alright?"

"No, no trouble, Mattie. Come on, who'd be dumb enough to attack a stage coach with the hero sitting shotgun?"

Matthew shook his head with a sigh.

"I hope he wasn't as obnoxious the entire trip, Mr. Kirkland. If he was, please accept my sincerest apologies."

"Nonsense, Alfred preformed his duty perfectly. I daresay that scout we ran into won't be in any hurry to rob any stages."

"Al, you said you didn't have any trouble!" Matthew glared at his brother accusingly.

Alfred's ears turned red as he mumbled.

"Wasn't no trouble, Mattie. Just a scout, and like Mr. Kirkland said, he wouldn't be in any hurry to give a hassle to anyone."

Matthew continued to stare daggers at his twin. Mr. Kirkland suppressed a chuckle, for a shy fellow at first glance he could certainly cow his brother. Taking pity on the poor boy, Mr. Kirkland spoke up.

"There really wasn't any sort of trouble, Matthew. Alfred spotted someone watching us a rest stop near, where was it Alfred?"

"Tanner's Ridge," Alfred mumbled.

"Tanner's Ridge, yes. Well, Mr. Miller suggested that Alfred warn the man off. Put a hole through the poor blokes hat, he did."

Alfred's blush spread from his ears across his face and garbled thanks was mumbled as he looked away. Kirkland shook his head, for all of the hero talk, the boy was nothing if not modest. The shot had been nothing short of amazing. He, himself had barely been able to make the man out. Alfred had been the first to notice and he had nudged Mr. Miller, who in turn glanced over the ridge seemingly without moving. Mr. Kirkland hadn't even realized what was going on until the driver settled down beside him beside the coach. Not a moment later, a single shot ran out. Mr. Kirkland had turned just quick enough to see a hat fly off the ridge line where it had been resting a few feet away from the offending scout. Alfred's face was strangely calm as he lowered his rifle, and it had startled the British man to see the hard look in the boy's eyes. "Well, that ought to give them second thoughts about ambushing us at the next stop," Alfred said with a smile, all previous intensity gone.

All Mr. Kirkland had been able to do was shake his head in wonder. Matthew's eyes softened a bit.

"Quite a shot Al, even for you."

"There wasn't any wind, and his hat was whiter than your Sunday shirt, Mattie."

"Notice who it was?"

"Nah, judging by the distance he was scouting from, I'd say he was one of Kintock's lackeys."

"Normally is, isn't it?" Matthew said nodding.

"I can't wait 'til they slip up and give us some proof of all the trouble they've been causin'" Alfred muttered with a snarl.

Mr. Kirkland's eyebrows furrowed. He'd heard that name a year ago when he bought the ground. Apparently the man owned land just north of his new property lines. He'd been waiting for the bank to drop the price and no one had dared to buy it out from under him. Well, no one until Mr. Kirkland. He hoped Kintock would not be too upset, but he was not above setting the man straight. He'd bought the land and his family was going to live on it happily. Mr. Kintock would just have to live with it. Mr. Kirkland blinked as Matthew moved behind the small counter and pulled out a key.

"You'll be in room 4, just at the end of the hall. I'd expect you'd like a chance to freshen up and get some rest."

"I would, thank you."

"Supper generally starts about six, if you like, I can come up and get you."

"No, no. That's quite alright, I'll manage."

"Okay. Alfred can show you your room. And Al," said addressing his brother, "Miss Lucy won't be sparing a sandwich if you don't hurry and get yourself cleaned up. You and I both know how she feels about dirt in the dining room."

Alfred paled a little and shuddered.

"That we do. I'll make sure and slip out the back and freshen up after I get Mr. Kirkland settled in."

"You better. See you at supper, Mr. Kirkland."

"Thank you, Matthew."

Mr. Kirkland turned to see Alfred taking the stairs two at a time. How the boy managed with all of the luggage, he'd never know. Gliding a had over the time polished banister, Mr. Kirkland followed him up.

Number four was a nice little room. A colorful quilt covered a comfortable looking bed. A small oak nightstand stood beside it with a pitcher, basin, and towel. Light blue curtains kept the afternoon sun from glaring in and below the window stood a sturdy armchair. Turning a bit brought a small matching dresser into view as well, along with a vase of fresh wild flowers. Mr. Kirkland watched as Alfred carefully deposited his bags at the foot of the bed.

"Will you be needin' anything else, Mr. Kirkland?"

"No, Mr. Jones. I believe I shall be just fine."

"Good, good. If you change your mind, just ask Mattie or Miss Lucy and they'll be glad to help you."

"Ah, Alfred. Would you and your brother care to join me for supper? I would enjoy some company and I'd like to properly thank you for your help."

"That's mighty kind of you, Mr. Kirkland. Mattie would probably like to, but I'll be heading out with Tom here soon. We need to make Ridder's Bend before nightfall."

"Won't someone be relieving you. As I recall, Mr. Miller is done for today."

"Nah, the fellow that normally trades me has a sick little girl at home. She's on the mend now, but her momma's still getting over her own bought of it and she's got two other young'uns to care for as well, so he's been roped into helping 'round the house for the time being."

"Ah, I see."

"Wish I could though, Mattie's cooking rivals Miss Lucy's. Won't find food like that within a fifty mile stretch of here."

"Well, I suppose you will just have to join me when you return."

"Now that's something I can agree to, Mr. Kirkland. I'll be looking forward to it."

Mr. Kirkland stuck his hand out and Alfred shook it.

"Be careful, I'd hate to see the shape you'd be in after your brother was through with you if you came in wounded."

Alfred shuddered again.

"Only a tad bit better than if Miss Lucy catches me dirtying up her dinning room. I'd best be off. Have a good day, Mr. Kirkland."

"I will certainly try, Mr. Jones. Safe travels."

Alfred shot him a smile and closed the door behind him. Sinking into the chair, Mr. Kirkland lazily turned his attention to the water pitcher. He knew he should clean up and organize his things, but chair just wouldn't seem to let him up.

' _Ah well, it can always be done later.'_

Mr. Kirkland smiled as thoughts of his wife fussing over the obvious mess flitted across his mind and let his eyes drift shut.


End file.
